Apache Flame (27 page)

She wondered if White Robe and Rides the Buffalo were all
right. The last she had seen of them, they had been scrambling up a rocky
incline. She had been behind them when her foot slipped on a rock and she had
tumbled back to the bottom.

Several soldiers had been chasing them. Alisha’s heart had
jumped into her throat when she saw one of the troopers lift his rifle, aiming
at White Robe’s back. With a cry, she had grabbed the man’s arm, begging him to
help her. He had started to push her away until he saw she wasn’t an Indian and
then he had quickly stooped to help her to her feet. When she looked back up
the hill, White Robe and her son were gone.

It took over an hour for the entire column to reach the
bottom of the trail. She had asked one of the soldiers where they were going,
and he had told her they were headed for Fort Apache. The soldier had assumed
she was an Apache prisoner and had assured her that she would be well cared
for, that they would notify her family that she had been found. Alisha had
played along, thinking that she might be of more help to Mitch and the others
if the soldiers thought she had been captured by the Apache. Alisha had asked
what was going to happen to the Indians. In an effort to assure her, perhaps,
that she was safe, he had told her that the warriors would be imprisoned, or
perhaps sent to Oklahoma. The women would be kept on the reservation.

They rode for several hours before the Captain called a
halt. Two tents were set up, one for the Captain, and one for the wounded
soldiers.

The prisoners, Mitch and Red Clements among them, were
herded into a group. Two guards stood nearby. Mitch turned his head, and she
saw that the bandage around his head was stained with dried blood.

Several other troopers guarded the Indian ponies.

The Indian scouts were gathered into a small group off by
themselves. Alisha wondered if they were Apache, and if so, why they were
acting as scouts for the cavalry against their own people.

Shortly after the captain called a halt, Alisha was given a
seat in the scant shade offered by one of the tents. A tall lanky trooper who
looked to be no more than seventeen or eighteen brought her a canteen of water
and some beef jerky. He blushed hotly when she thanked him.

It was, she thought, going to be a long, long day.

* * * * *

Mitch sat on the ground between Elk Chaser and Red Clements.

“Well,” Clements muttered, staring at his bound hands,
“ain’t this a hell of a mess.”

Elk Chaser grunted in agreement. He looked over at the
Indian scouts, his eyes dark with hatred.

Mitch glanced at Elk Chaser. “Do you know if they got away?”

Elk Chaser shook his head.

“Why did they attack the village?” Clements wondered aloud.
“That’s what I’d like to know.” He looked at Elk Chaser. “Any of your people
been making war lately?”

“The Blue Coats do not need a reason,” Elk Chaser said with
a sneer.

“One of their forts was attacked,” Mitch said. “I overheard
two of the troopers talking about it.”

Elk Chaser grunted. “The Blue Coats cannot tell one tribe
from another. They will not rest until they have wiped our people from the
earth.”

Mitch swore softly. At least Alisha was alive and well. One
of the cavalry officers would look after her, see that she made it home. He
closed his eyes. His head hurt, his shoulder hurt. He was hot and thirsty and
tired. “Anybody got any ideas about how to get out of this?”

“I don’t have an idea in hell,” Clements said, “but we’d
better think of one afore we get to the Fort. I ain’t lookin’ forward to no
jail time. I got people waitin’ on me, dependin’ on me.”

A faint smile curved Elk Chaser’s lips. “Rest, my brothers,”
he said quietly.

“You know somethin’ you ain’t tellin’ us?” Clements asked.

“I know that many of our warriors escaped. They will send
the women and children to our brothers in the south, and then they will seek
vengeance for our dead.”

Red Clements looked at Mitch and grinned. “Sounds like there
might be another battle.”

Mitch nodded. “I reckon.”

* * * * *

By nightfall, the camp was well established. Guards walked
the perimeter, the horses were contained in a rope corral, the prisoners had
been fed and were bedded down for the night.

Alisha had been offered the captain’s tent for the night,
but she had refused it. She wanted to be outside, wanted to be able to see
Mitch.

The Apaches had been very quiet. There was no conversation among
them. Even the children were silent, their dark eyes wide and watchful, as if
they were waiting for something to happen.

Wrapped up in her blanket, her head pillowed on her arm,
Alisha gazed toward the group of captive men. She couldn’t see Mitch in the
dark, but it comforted her to know he was nearby.

She looked up at the vast indigo vault of the sky, picking
out the constellations. It reminded her of the summer nights she had snuck out
of the house to meet Mitchy down by the creek. They had often stretched out on
a blanket, her head pillowed on his shoulder as they watched the stars. She had
always been at ease with Mitch. Even back then, she had known she could rely on
him, that he would protect her, that she could tell him anything and he would
listen. He had been her best friend in all the world. When he left town, he had
left behind a huge hole in her life and in her heart that no one had ever been
able to fill.

And now, at long last, she was his wife.

She fell asleep, clinging to the hope that her son was still
alive, that, somehow, they would all be together again.

* * * * *

Mitch came awake with a start, not knowing what had roused
him. And then he heard it again. A faint cry, like that of a night bird. He
turned to look at Elk Chaser and saw that the warrior was awake and staring
into the distance.

“What’s up?” Red Clements whispered.

Mitch shook his head. “I’m not sure.” His eyes narrowed as
he heard the same cry again. He grinned as he glanced over at Clements.
“Jailbreak, maybe.”

* * * * *

Alisha woke suddenly, glad to escape the nightmare she had
been having. It was still dark, and the camp was quiet save for the
intermittent snores rising from soldiers.

Rising, she crept away from the encampment, seeking a place
where she could relieve herself. A clump of mesquite a good distance from the
camp was the only cover and she ducked behind it, thinking she would never
complain about the outhouse back home again.

She was about to return to her blankets when an arm went
round her neck and a large calloused hand covered her mouth, trapping her cry
of terror in her throat.

* * * * *

Mitch felt a quick sense of fear as a hand holding a knife
reached out of the darkness. That fear was quickly replaced by a sense of
relief as his bonds were cut.

Impossible as it seemed, two Apache warriors moved among the
captive warriors, cutting them free. Like shadows fleeing the sun, the freed
warriors scattered and disappeared into the darkness as if they had never been
there.

Mitch followed Elk Chaser, his heart pounding as he waited
for a sentry to raise the alarm, but all remained quiet.

When they were out of sight of the camp, a warrior appeared
leading two horses. Elk Chaser swung aboard the near one, then looked down at
Mitch.

“We will separate and meet at the place of the talking
trees.”

Mitch nodded, then glanced back toward the camp. “Alisha…”

Elk Chaser looked past Mitch and smiled.

Turning, Mitch saw two riders coming toward him. Alisha was
one of them.

“At the talking trees,” Elk Chaser said.

“What of my mother?”

“She will be there,” Elk Chaser replied. The words,
if
she can
, hovered, unspoken, between them.

With a wave of his hand, Elk Chaser disappeared into the
darkness, along with the warrior who had been holding the horses.

Mitch swung onto his horse’s back, then rode over to Alisha.
“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said tremulously. “Are you?”

A gunshot from the camp was the first indication that their
escape had been detected. It was followed by a shrill war cry, and more
gunfire. In the flash of gunfire, Mitch saw several warriors firing in the
direction Elk Chaser had gone.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Mitch said.

She didn’t argue. With one hand wrapped around the reins,
and the other clinging to the saddle horn, she followed Mitch into the darkness.

They hadn’t gone far when another horse and rider came into
view.

Mitch swore, thinking the cavalry had found them, then
grinned as he recognized Red Clements.

“This way!” Red hollered. “I know a place where we can hole
up ‘til the shooting stops.”

With a nod, Mitch and Alisha fell in behind him.

They rode for an hour, alternating between a gallop and a
trot. The sun was clearing the horizon when Clements pulled his horse to a
halt. Dismounting, he waited for Mitch and Alisha.

“We walk from here,” Red said.

Alisha slid gratefully out of the saddle, watched, in
open-mouthed astonishment, as Red took a step toward what looked like solid
rock and disappeared from sight.

Mitch grunted softly as he stepped forward, only then
realizing that there were actually two huge boulders side by side that appeared
to be one solid object. The opening was just wide enough for a horse to pass
through.

Turning, he smiled at Alisha. “Come on.”

The narrow defile, which was about six feet long, opened
into a small grassy space ringed by boulders. Alisha thought it looked like a
fairyland, with a carpet of green grass and a tiny pool fed by an underground
spring. A few shrubs grew near the water. A bush seemed to grow out of one of
the rocks.

“We’ll rest here a mite,” Clements said.

“How did you find this place?” Alisha asked.

“My wife’s people use it for a hideout from time to time.”
Clements patted his horse on the shoulder, then removed the bridle and gave the
animal a swat on the rump. Alisha grinned as she recognized Sophie.

Mitch removed the bridle from his mount, too, then turned
and helped her from the back of her horse. It was then she realized her horse
was the only one wearing a saddle. Mitch quickly unfastened the cinch, removed
the saddle and bridle, and turned her horse loose to graze with the other two.

“Do you think the others got safely away?” Alisha asked.

Clements nodded. “Sure. Them ‘Paches know their way around
this desert the way a woman knows her way around her kitchen.”

“What about the women?”

Clements chuckled. “They’ll be all right. I reckon their men
will go after them soon as they regroup.” Clements looked at Mitch and frowned.
“You look all done in.”

“Yeah, that’s how I feel, too.”

Clements removed a small pile of rocks, dug down a foot or
so, and pulled out a bundle, which turned out to be a buffalo robe. Inside the
robe were several small buckskin pouches. He opened one and pulled out several
hunks of dried venison. He handed one to Alisha and one to Mitch, then spread
the buffalo robe on a flat stretch of ground and sat down.

Mitch and Alisha followed suit. The jerky was old and tough
but it was better than nothing, and Alisha ate it without complaint.

“Well,” Red remarked with a lopsided grin, “I don’t know
‘bout you two, but I’m all tuckered out.”

Mitch grunted softly. He hated to admit it, but a nap
sounded damn good. Lowering himself onto the robe, he held out his hand for
Alisha. She sank down beside him, her head on his shoulder, one arm draped
across his chest.

Clements stretched out on the other side of the robe and was
instantly asleep.

Alisha ran her fingers over Mitch’s cheek. “Are you sure
you’re all right?”

“Yeah.” It was almost the truth. His arm hurt like the
devil, his head ached, but he’d been hurt worse a time or two in the past.

“Do you think Rides the Buffalo is all right?”

“Sure, darlin’.”

“Are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

Mitch chuckled. “I’m trying to make us both feel better.”

“I can’t lose him again, Mitch, I just can’t.”

“I know.” He kissed her cheek. “Let’s hope for the best.
That’s all we can do.”

With a sigh, she closed her eyes and snuggled closer. He was
right, there was nothing to do but wait, and hope.

And pray.

Chapter Thirty-Two

When she woke, the sun was high in the sky and she was alone
on the buffalo robe.

Scrambling to her feet, she felt a momentary sense of panic,
but then she saw the horses grazing peacefully near the seep and knew that
everything was all right.

Combing her fingers through the tangles in her hair, Alisha
walked toward the water.

Sophie whickered softly at her approach.

“Hi, girl,” Alisha murmured. She stroked the horse’s neck
for a few moments, then knelt down and drank from the cool, clear water,
wondering where the men had gone.

Rising, Alisha leaned against Sophie’s shoulder, idly
scratching the mare’s ears, her thoughts turning toward the battle. It had been
like a scene out of a nightmare…the sudden appearance of the soldiers, the
noise and confusion, the stink of gun smoke and death.

The warriors had burst out of their lodges to defend their
homes and loved ones, trusting that the women would get the children to safety.
And the children…though they were wide-eyed with fear, they hadn’t made a
sound.

A prayer for the safety of her son and her mother-in-law
rose from her heart. Rides the Buffalo had to be all right, she thought. Surely
she would feel it if something had happened to him.

Feeling suddenly restless, she started walking toward the
far side of the enclosure. Sophie trailed at her heels like a puppy.